agricultural labourer before them:

"The sentence of the Court now is that you be conveyed
from hence to the place from where you came, and from there
be drawn to the place of execution upon hurdles; that you be
hanged by the neck; that you be cut down alive; that your
bowels be taken out and burnt in your view; that your head
be severed from your body; that your body be divided into
four quarters, and your quarters be at the disposition of the
King: and may the God of infinite mercy be merciful to your
soul. Amen."

"Why all this cookery?" once asked a Scottish rebel, quoted by Swift.
But the sentence, with its confiding appeal to a higher Court than
England's, was literally carried out upon rebels in this country for at
least four and a half centuries. Every detail of it (and one still more
disgusting) is recorded in the execution of Sir William Wallace, the
national hero of Scotland, more generally known to the English of the
time as "the man of Belial," who was executed at Tyburn in 1305.[2] The
rebels of 1745 were, apparently, the last upon whom the full ritual was
performed, and Elizabeth Gaunt, burnt alive at Tyburn in 1685 for
sheltering a conspirator in the Rye House Plot, was the last woman up to
now intentionally put to death in this country for a purely political
offence. The long continuance of so savage a sentence is proof of the
abhorrence in which the crime of rebellion has been held. And in many
minds the abhorrence still subsists. Sir James Fitzjames Stephen, for
instance, one of our greatest authorities on criminal law, wrote in
1880:

"My opinion is that we have gone too far in laying capital